


This Ain't The First Time For You And I

by ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angel Aziraphale, Angst with a Happy Ending, Human Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahyperactiverhero/pseuds/ahyperactivehero
Summary: "Well, he loves those humans so much," she said, her grin spreading. "So I thought, why not let him live with them. As one of them?"The archangel nodded his head, his face considering. The wheels that were turning in his head were practically visible. "Make him human? No escaping Death that way.""No," she said, satisfaction coloring her tone. "Plus, Hell will get his soul when he dies. He can get punished on Earth and in Hell.""But how does this punish Aziraphale?" Gabriel asked. "He still gets off without a scratch."She laughed. "Oh, haven't you noticed, Gabe?" The archangel sneered at the nickname. "They're in love. And what could possibly be worse than loving something mortal?"XXXAfter the averted Apocalypse, Heaven and Hell come to punish Crowley and Aziraphale. Now, even after finding Crowley again, Aziraphale realizes that the former demon doesn't even remember him, that he seems to think he's a simple flower shop owner. But nothing is as simple as it seems, both for Aziraphale and for the newly human Crowley.





	1. Chapter 1

While it's a cliche to say it was a dark and stormy night, it actually was. Lightening streaked across the sky, the kind that lit up the whole world like day time and was chased by thunder claps that seemed to split open your ear drums. Anyone with half a brain was cowering inside, hoping to avoid getting struck by lightening or drowned by the torrential rain that was coming down.

But there were two figures standing out in the middle of it all. One had simply rose from the ground, while the other had seemed to ride a lightening strike to Earth. Anyone who looked at them would've said that there was something strange about them, something not quite right, even if they couldn't exactly tell what that thing was yet.

But there was no one around that night. Just the two of them and the storm.

"Beelzebub."

"Gabriel."

They exchanged greetings with tense, short nods to each other. It was obvious that they didn't want to be there or talking to each other, but there was very little choice in the matter. Something had to be done.

"I take it you got the demons to go back to their old jobs?" Gabriel asked, although it was apparent that he knew this already, and had very little interest in small talk.

"Yes," she said. "And from what I've heard Heaven is back to the way it always is?"

"Yes."

_"Figures,"_ the word buzzed like the flies around her, "angels always did listen better than demons."

"Well, there's a reason for that," Gabriel said with a know-it-all smile. "Heavenly influences, after all."

They both stood there, watching the rain fall around them for a second. Neither one of them seemed to be concerned about the storm surrounding them. In fact, it honestly seemed as though they were the one's causing it.

"Duke Hastur wants the traitor to suffer," Beelzebub said. "And that angel of your's."

An almost pained, disgusted look came over Gabriel's face. "Believe, me, he's not one of ours. I don't know what he is, but he's not Heaven's. At least, not if I had anything to say about it."

Her eyes ran over Gabriel, searching for the hidden meaning in his words. "What do you mean?"

"Aziraphale," Gabriel said, practically spitting the name. "He's been Forgiven."

" _Forgiven_ -Forgiven?" Beelzebub said. "You mean, from... _Her_?" She'd paused, as though she might throw up before mentioning Her. The flies buzzing around her were a raucous swarm, almost as loud as the storm around them. "How the Heaven does an angel like that get that kind of treatment?"

Frustration seemed to bleed out from Gabriel. "I don't know. Just word from On High that he was to be Forgiven and allowed to return to his duties. No punishment."

The Prince of Hell seemed to think this over for a moment. "That won't matter," she said. "Because we can still punish the other one, the traitor."

Gabriel glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "That sounds interesting. What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Well, he loves those humans so much," she said, her grin spreading. "So I thought, why not let him live with them. As one of them?"

The archangel nodded his head, his face considering. The wheels that were turning in his head were practically visible. "Make him human? No escaping Death that way."

"No," she said, satisfaction coloring her tone. "Plus, Hell will get his soul when he dies. He can get punished on Earth and in Hell."

"But how does this punish Aziraphale?" Gabriel asked. "He still gets off without a scratch."

She laughed. "Oh, haven't you noticed, Gabe?" The archangel sneered at the nickname. "They're in love. And what could possibly be worse than loving something mortal?"


	2. Chapter 2

Perhaps it had been naive of them to believe that their sides would leave them alone, even for a little while. Crowley had stated many times before that he didn't believe everything was over, that the two sides would eventually come back full force for them, but Aziraphale had always questioned it. Maybe it was because he didn't want to think about what they would do should they come for them, or maybe it was because he truly had more faith in their respective sides, no matter what that said about him.

But Crowley had always believed that they would come. And when they did, they came for him first.

It had been a rather normal day for the two of them, a nice lunch at the sushi place Aziraphale enjoyed, a walk around St. James Park, and plans to meet up later that night for drinks.

"I'm just gonna get some stuff from my flat," Crowley said. "I'll be back before dinner."

He'd waved goodbye after that and sped off towards his old place. A flutter inside Aziraphale had started at the idea of Crowley returning to him. The last few weeks had been utterly wonderful, nothing but a daze of the two of them meeting up and doing absolutely nothing together.

Most of Crowley's things were inside Aziraphale's bookshop now. He hadn't noticed exactly when it had happened, but slowly but surely his stuff was creeping into Aziraphale's space. Some art work that went rather well inside his shop was already hanging up, as Crowley had drunkenly declared that to be it's "home" and left it there. Other places were filled with plants, giving the shop a much more breathable quality to it.

Aziraphale hadn't minded the way his shop had looked before, had quite enjoyed it if he were honest, but there was something about the way it looked now that made his face heat up and turn the rest of him to mush. It was like this was how it always should have been, just a strange mix of clutter and clean, old and new but never clashing. 

It was like the two of them. Or at least, the way he hoped Crowley also viewed the two of them.

He'd expected Crowley to be back by dinner time like he'd said he would be, but he never showed. Maybe he'd gotten distracted or maybe there was more traffic than he'd expected or maybe _this_ or maybe _that_.

Aziraphale had never been very good with maybes. They left far too much to the imagination, and while he'd never had a particularly good one like Crowley, his imagination did tend to lean towards the much more dramatic and worrying. 

Which is how he'd found himself getting up, ready to catch a cab over to Crowley place. If he could just get over there he'd see that all of his worrying had been for nothing. Crowley was probably just sleeping or fixing his hair or whatever else took the demon so long to get ready.

Before he'd even reached the door he'd sensed something. Someone else was in the bookshop with him.

"Aziraphale," Gabriel's voice said.

He froze. What was an archangel doing in his bookshop?

When he turned around he saw him standing there amongst his books. His face was as it almost always was when he'd entered the bookshop: annoyed and confused by such human things. There was also more than enough annoyance directed at Aziraphale himself, although considering the last time they'd "met" Crowley-as-Aziraphale had been spitting Hellfire at him, he could over look such things.

"Gabriel?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

The archangel sighed and held his hands out to his sides. "I've come to tell you that you've been Forgiven."

He blinked. "What?"

"Yes, Aziraphale, Angel of the East Gate, She's Forgiven you. We've reviewed your files and the work that you've done on Earth and decided that the best option would be for you to stay on Earth on do Her work."

There was something to his words that made Aziraphale's skin crawl. They were fake, as if he were reading from a well known script, but there was something else there, too.

"Forgiven me?" He blinked a few more times. "Best option? I'm sorry, who _exactly_ decided this?"

"Somebody higher than me," Gabriel said with a plastered smile. His perfect teeth reminded Aziraphale of fangs the way he bared them. 

"Oh," he said. Well, that was a pretty short list of people, then. It must have come directly from Her. Or Metatron, although he doubted that he was much help in anything. He wrung his hands together a few times before continuing. "Um, well, that's very nice I suppose." He paused, hoping that Gabriel might take up the conversation, but he didn't. "And what does that mean exactly?"

"It means that you will go back to your business on Earth just as you always have." The archangel held up a finger practically wagging it in front of him. "But, there is one condition. Shouldn't be too hard now though."

"And what condition is that?" Aziraphale asked. 

"You can't ever speak to the former demon known as Crowley." 

Even with half-way guessing what Gabriel was going to say didn't prepare him for it. They couldn't ask him to stop speaking to Crowley, not after all this time! To stop talking to him would be like asking him to stop reading or eating sushi or enjoying tea. It just wasn't something he was capable of anymore.

No one ever turned down Heaven, because the other option was usually Hell, but he was going to. There was no way that he was going to live on Earth without him.

But there was something that Gabriel had said that bothered him, something that ate at the back of his mind. _Former demon?_

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale said. "Did you say former demon? What do you mean, former demon?"

Gabriel smiled again and it definitely reminded him of some kind of predator with sharp fangs about to chomp down on an innocent animal's neck this time. There was no denying it.

"Well you see," Gabriel said, his voice almost mocking in tone. "We couldn't punish you after getting word from the higher ups that you were to be Forgiven. But that doesn't mean that Hell couldn't punish the other half of this weird relationship."

His face pinched in confusion and more than a bit of concern. "Punish? What do you mean? What did they do?"

"See, that's the best thing," Gabriel said. "For a bunch of evil dicks who don't really have much of an imagination when it comes to punishments, they were very creative with this one." He spread his arms out, like he was a ring man at a circus, calling all attention to him. "What do you do to a demon how loves humanity so much he's willing to defy Hell for it?"

Aziraphale shrugged, although he doubted that he was exactly expected to answer.

"You turn him into a human!" Gabriel clapped his hands together as if this were the best bit of information that he had heard in a long time. "Ha! Get it? Pretty harsh from the Other Side, but then again, I would've just killed him if we could've figured out how. Maybe War's Sword would've done it, I don't know. Not like anyone can find it, anyways."

His brain seemed to be working through sludge. There was no way that he could have heard Gabriel correctly. Crowley was...human? Hell must have taken a page from Crowley's own book if it was really getting that creative with his punishment.

But... human? There was no way. They'd spent the last six thousand years together, had survived the end of the world together. It wasn't possible for him to be a human. They had such short life spans! A hundred years, if they were lucky, and he doubted that Crowley would be starting from childhood. Hell would never have been that kind.

But he was alive, Aziraphale supposed. They could've just killed him with some other Holy weapon or found out that Holy Water actually did work on him or any number of other things that would've ended with him being gone forever. At least this way his presence could live on, even if it was only for a few more years.

A blink of an eye for any angel, really.

"But at least this way, he gets punished in this life and his next," Gabriel said, nodding his head as though he couldn't help but approve of the Opposition's idea. "Crowley gets punished, dies a painful human death, and his soul gets to go to Hell when he dies."

"So I'm Forgiven, but Crowley has to die?" Aziraphale asked. None of this felt even remotely real, like it were nothing but a bad dream that he was experiencing. "And his soul goes to Hell?"

White teeth flashed at him. "Call it an Angelic Perk. You are one of Her own, so she bails you out and the scum gets to go back to Hell where he belongs. Sounds like justice to me."

He shook his head, not finding that he exactly agreed with the sentiment. 

"This really is for the best, Aziraphale," Gabriel said. "You can't see it now, I'm sure, but sooner or later you will."

Rage and despair and heartbreak all seemed to battle for dominance inside of him. Part of him wanted to fight Gabriel, physically fight the archangel any way that he could until he could get an audience with God Herself and demand that she save Crowley as well, as he was just as much Her's as Aziraphale was, but he knew that that would get him no where. 

The worst part about all of this was Gabriel's smug smile. It seemed to be plastered on, as it always was, but he seemed to be enjoying this far too much for him to not be being punished. Gabriel understood exactly what keeping him away from Crowley was going to do to him, knew exactly how much it would hurt.

"We'll be in touch," Gabriel said. "I'll let you know when we have an assignment for you."

"Wait!" Aziraphale called out, but it was too late. Gabriel was gone.

Without any hesitation he turned and ran from the bookshop.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So I've been working on this one for a while now, and the only reason why I haven't started posting it is because we still don't have internet in our new apartment. Hopefully, this will be fixed soon and updates will come a bit more steadily, but I hope you enjoy the first little bit of the story! Let me know how you feel about it either here or over on my tumbler under the same user name!
> 
> (Title comes from the Jonas Brother's new song, Strangers, which is so perfect for these two, especially in this context!)


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